Crispin the Vampire: The Cross of Blood

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Long into the dark hours of the night, I awoke, confused. I knew not where I was, and I was in complete darkness.

I was afraid. I was in the forest, out after curfew, bumped my head, had no parents, was alone, and I was hungry for human blood.

I was also confused. How did I get there? Why was I craving something I had never even thought about drinking? Why does my head hurt?

In a flash, I remembered what had happened. I had tripped and fell on a stone. I gingerly touched my head, and felt a rather large bump. I winced.

I was wet, lost, and cold. I wondered why I had not listened to Father Quinel and went inside the church to pray. Then I remembered Aycliffe and the death tax. Why must God be so unfair to me? Why must I pay for something not my fault?

I decided that the best course of action would be to walk. So I did. I saw a light, and made the sign of the cross over my heart. I exhaled, desperately hoping that the light was not from John Ayncliffe.

As God would have it, the light came from a fluttering torch held by a man talking to another. This could mean no good. Night was the time for outlaws, dark animals, the Devil, and his minions.

Once I was as close to the light as I dared to go, I could see the two men more clearly. The one holding the torch was Ayncliffe, his ever-present sword at his side.

The other man, however, I had never seen before. He was dressed like a gentleman, which was strange considering the time of day. His old over-tunic was blue, fraying, and quilted, with rusted clasps. He wore a long, dark, flowing cape, with the hood up, putting his face in shadows. Stringy graying hair reached past his shoulders.

There was another figure, this time a horse. It must belong to the stranger, considering Ayncliffe couldn't ride a horse for his life.

I tried to listen to what the men were discussing. I forgot about the danger, which cost me. A beginner's mistake.

The stranger, pushing his cape aside, brought forth a parchment affixed with red seals. He handed it Ayncliffe, nodding as he did so. Ayncliffe unfolded it, and I could see that it was filled with writing, none of which I could read. More seals and ribbons threatened to fall off from the bottom edge.

As he read it, Ayncliffe exclaimed and made the sign of the cross, "By the bowels of Christ! I could never have guessed! When will it happen?"

"It will come soon, if God wills it."

"When am I to act?"

The man shook his head, as if expecting Ayncliffe to know. "You are her kin. Can you not see the consequences if you don't act immediately?"

"A bloody danger to us all."

"Now you understand. He could slaughter us all in our sleep. If you don't act accordingly, there are others who will."

Turning away, Ayncliffe began to fold the parchment. As he did so, his eyes met mine. Like I said, a beginner's mistake.

"He's there!" screeched Ayncliffe.

The stranger turned towards Ayncliffe's pointing finger, and his eyes widened in shock. "Now would be the time to do it."

Throwing the parchment aside and all concerns of staying quiet, the two men drew their swords and ran toward me.

I couldn't move, rooted to the spot by fear. When they came close enough, I knew in my heart that it was fight or flight. I, not having any weapons or way to fight, chose flight.

But no sooner than I made my decision, I became ensnared in brambles that would not release me from their thorny grasp, unless...

Ayncliffe was growing closer. His face twisted in hate, he lifted his sword, preparing to eliminate me once and for all. I grinned, knowing what would happen.

Swinging the sword, the hasty descending arc missed me, instead cutting the brambles. I tore myself free before he could try again.

I kept running.

Ayncliffe kept at it, the sword never too far. Without doubt, he would have caught me if I had not ran straight off a cliff. It took me by surprise, although no great height. I fell through the air, finally landing. But, with Jesus Christ as my witness, I did not stop there. I tumbled down another hill, only pausing when I could go no further.

Even after all that, I luckily had enough sense to look back to make sure I was no longer being pursued. Ayncliffe, on the cliff, his face illuminated by the torchlight, peered down. He had no idea where I was! Ha! I knew I could make no noise, or risk being discovered.

When he did retreat, giving up on me, I picked myself up and continued on my mad dash. I ran as far as my strength allowed, then paused when my legs gave out. I dropped to the ground, exhausted. I gasped for breath.

I had little rest the remainder of the night, exhausted as I was. I had too many thoughts circling about my head to even think about sleep.

I was afraid of being caught.

I was still engulfed by my mother's death.

I was fearful of my new hunger, which had come back, stronger than before.

I was worried about my sins. I had committed so many, and I knew God was punishing me for them.

Even though I was apprehensive of His next blow, I sought, with true prayers, forgiveness for my pitiful, sinful life.

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Sorry I haven't updated in so long, I guess I just forgot about this. I understand that most people will not understand this story; only WritersBlockAgain and munchkinmeg13. So, if you're not one of those people, I suggest either ignoring this entirely, or reading Crispin.

(It's by Avi.)

~Cori